


Unexpected Events

by SilviaKundera



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-27
Updated: 2011-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-19 20:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilviaKundera/pseuds/SilviaKundera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Eduardo stumbles into a mortifying crush on Sean Parker. Because his life isn't hard enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Events

Eduardo had no idea his life was about to change until it suddenly, drastically did. He was sort of under the impression that it already _had_ , with the starting a company, and getting blowjobs from technology groupies, and renting a house (how insane was _that_?) like an actual grownup. He had no idea what was about to hit him.

Eduardo was just nursing his drink slowly, calming his stomach after an inadvisable amount of back to back shots, and watching the room. A guy who might have claimed to be Tim was swearing at the tangled video game controllers. Kendra appeared to be attempting a Long Island Ice Tea with orange soda instead of cola. Chris was on his cell in the corner, keeping watch over the crowd in the pool. Mark was obviously talking work with an increasingly mulish Dustin who was peering over Mark’s shoulder at Sean and that girl he said he’d picked up at Starbucks: Sean’s big hands cupping her ass, thumb running down the center to rub at the underside of her short skirt as Sean kissed her languidly, open mouthed and wet, like they had all the time in the world.

Eduardo didn’t intend to stare, no more than register what had caught Dustin’s eye, but his neck was stiff from a strange tension and it was hard to look away from the curve of Sean’s wrist, the confident strokes of his hands (one running up to press at the small of her back), the shifting muscles in his arms. There was something tight in Eduardo’s chest, a not unfamiliar feeling around Sean Parker, but then it shifted until his hands were shaky, his blood running hot.

This was just great. He had a whole other life on the opposite coast that some could say he was almost systematically fucking up, he didn’t know how to _be_ a CFO (it’s not like there’s a class for that in 2nd year Econ), his best friend was barely registering his existence, and clearly that wasn’t enough, no, now he had some pointless crush on the one person in his life who had it out for him from the fucking _start_.

This was where most people say, ‘Fuck my life,’ except who would even want to fuck something that gross. It was monstrous. His life would be celibate forever.

"I’m going to die alone," Eduardo informed the wall. It might just be the vodka, but he thought (while banging his head against it repeatedly) that it just might be commiserating with him a little.

"You’re my only friend," he mumbled into the wood.

*

The morning was looking better when he woke up face down on the carpet. There were no more inappropriate erections and he hadn’t drowned in his own vomit. It was possible that the entire psycho-sexual catastrophe had simply been a vivid hallucination.

Then of course Sean strolled out of his bedroom in rumpled boxers. He had this stupid golden line of muscles in his back and his hair was sleep mussed. God he was beautiful. It made Eduardo want to punch him in the nuts.

Sean laughed, learning back against the counter to give him a once over. "Boy, you were _wrecked_."

As the only possible response to this was to flip him off and stumble to the bathroom, this was what Eduardo did.

*

When he made it out to the living room for lunch, Sean was lounging on the couch and enthralling a circle of interns with tales of skanky deal making and death-denying stunts. He was picking at the label of the beer bottle balanced between his thighs, which were spread wide and straining his swim trunks, because obviously Sean was incapable of just existing like some normal human being. Even his body language and offensively expensive sunglasses had to make statements.

He nodded as Eduardo entered the room and lifted his arm up to stretch proprietorially across the back of the sofa (since he couldn't possibly know how fucking bad Eduardo _did not_ , under any circumstances, want to sit there) ( _dick_ ). Apparently once he was scuba diving off the coast in the Caribbean and a shark grabbed his tank and hauled him nearly to the surface before Sean kicked it in the face. From the markings it could have been a great white, but they'll never know.

"Wouldn't that have given you the bends?" Eduardo said.

It shouldn't have been physically possible, but Sean's grin got even brighter as he refocused his attention. "I'm touched by your concern." He tipped his beer in salute. "Eduardo's my fact checker."

There was a damp sheen along Sean's collarbone and his t-shirt was thin and stretched at the throat. In a perfect world, these would not be noticeable, distracting things.

"I'm gonna-- missed-- I'll see what we have for sandwiches," Eduardo said.

The interns looked at him, rather accurately, like he'd lost his damn mind and like they weren't sure why anyone should care, since that sentence in no way involved hacking, car races, corporate espionage, or wild animal attacks.

Sean just stretched in his seat, shoulders rolling, and gave him a little wave. "You do that, buddy."

*

Mark was wired in for the next 32 hours. It should have mattered because, even with the recent estrangement, there was no one Eduardo trusted more and if he had ever needed some emotional backup and hand-holding this was time, but:

(a) he had no idea how he could possibly frame the situation without losing what was left of his shredded dignity, (b) to be honest, he couldn't picture Mark performing supportive holding-type personal gestures of any kind, and (c) a conversation with Mark would likely necessitate a discussion of all the progress in NY that he hadn't actually made yet.

So Eduardo thought very hard about how he'd only promised five days out of his break, checked his voice mail once (or twice) (or 20 times) and proof read proposal documents again (and again) (and again) (and again) while observing things that were _not_ Sean Parker doing laps in the pool, back flexing with each stroke of the butterfly, or Sean Parker drying off next to his chair while asking the time, or Sean Parker in low slung jeans, passing the joint to Dustin and bending over to shotgun his lungful into a junior developer's glossy mouth.

Eduardo was a _professional_ , with a backlog of assignments in Public Finance and Labor Economics. If he wanted to be treated like an adult, he had to act like one.

Eduardo had it under good authority that adults engage in repression and calculated avoidance all the time.

The main strategy was to huddle over his laptop at the makeshift dinner table and surf for bibliography sources and straight porn. The sources might actually come in handy for his term paper. The porn participants resembled no one he'd ever known (including Christy), so minimal chances for mentally scarring recollections or counter-productive arousal.

"MotherFUCK, what happened to the water heater?"

The expression on Chris' face made it clear that if he turned there was a 98% probability that he'd be presented with a familiar lean body wrapped in hastily fastened towel, so it was official.

Eduardo was being stalked by the bare torso of Sean Parker. Whatever wrongs he'd committed in a previous life, this had to be cruel and unusual punishment.

*

The weather swung colder at night. Not anything comparative to a Massachusetts evening, but enough to drive most of the inhabitants indoors. This meant _clothing_ and possibly even _layers_ , which was cause for rejoicing, and Eduardo manned up with long sleeves (someone was using his best damn coat for a blanket somewhere, in a manner that had better not involve body fluids of any kind) and went about avoiding humanity to the best of his abilities. The backyard was quiet, though he could hear the faint roar of overlapping voices competing with the television in one the back rooms.

He was scanning a forward from the Phoenix list group when Sean said, "So this is where you're hiding," sauntering down the concrete path in a way that should not be at all attractive because, frankly, it was _sauntering_ and _fuck_ Sean was ridiculous and yes Eduardo still wanted to bite his jaw a little.

"I'm not hiding," Eduardo said.

Sean hummed under his breath. "Did you tell anyone you'd be out here?"

"No."

"Can anyone see you from the house?"

"No," Eduardo said. And if it sounded a little clipped, that was because Sean had been edging closer with each statement, until the pushy bastard was crowding him up against the property wall. "But that's not hiding."

"Sounds like hiding to me," Sean said, leaning his weight on both arms to stretch up and sneak a peak at their neighbors. He left his hands there after leaning back, book-ending Eduardo's shoulders, as if that was seriously supposed to be intimidating.

Eduardo considered letting Sean know that the idea of him being even _remotely_ physically threatening was laughable, but (a) they weren't in the habit of doing each other favors and (b) it might come across like protesting too much.

"Sounds like you were looking for me," he said, after a pause.

Sean flashed that little-boy grin, the one that said he was delighted with his own cleverness. "Maybe I was."

The hands weren't close enough to touch, but Eduardo could feel the heat of him, their legs inches apart, and the small shifts of his body, all the slight, constant movements like he was impossible to still. Eduardo would have said that Sean's cologne should be sharp (one of those almost metallic chemical notes or a bold citrus that burns at your nose) and was more than a little unsettled to discover a rich, subtle warmth mixing with the scent of Sean's sweat and his skin to curl in the center of Eduardo's stomach.

"What do you want, Sean?"

Sean smiled guilelessly, which must take real talent and was somehow infinitely more infuriating than a smirk. "Do you have a meet for us yet? Just wanted to firm up Mark's schedule. You know, if he has to be flying out."

"If I have an update for Mark's schedule, I'll let him know," said Eduardo, who hadn't noticed, at all, how Sean's right knee had slipped closer, almost slotted beside his.

"Yeah, you're helpful like that," Sean said.

And _there_ was the smirk, except a shout rang out from the den and Sean whipped around to jog back to the house to crying out, "The kraken awakes!", arms lifted in celebration as Mark appeared in the doorway to shake his head.

So if Eduardo slumped back against the wall, the only witness was his pride - and they were becoming equally pathetic at this rate.

*

There was some new view or functionality everyone was working on; the clatter of keyboards was giving him a headache. It was making Mark's face twist and Dustin vibrate in his chair. Eduardo knew it was important, and _tried_ , but out of all the talk of classes and indirection and presentation he was honestly following about 25% of any individual discussion and about 0% of... all of it.

He wanted to grab someone and drag them into a room with a whiteboard to explain, map it out, stop his head from pounding. But he worried it would be simply a waste of company time. And there was the far sicker fear that they'd say no, that the authority he held in these rooms had dissipated with distance and time, if it had ever been there in the first place.

Chris said he didn't need to understand this shit to sell it, but Chris had been known to use his optimistic persuasion powers for evil. (see: encouragement of Next-Door-Jason in a threesome proposal to the punk princess lesbian couple from Calculus IV) (though, admittedly, Eduardo had always wondered what a Doc Marten tread would look like imprinted on the human face)

There were seven texts from his team members in Soc 31, which meant the grades had posted, which meant he should delete them. Because until he had actually seen the professor's communication there was theoretically no reason he shouldn't respond to his mother's email that class was "fine, I guess", along with "yes, it's very busy in Palo Alto", and "I'm having an interesting vacation" (because horrible was sort of interesting, wasn't it, like bedbug feeding habits and the multi-textured growths in the Kirkland fridge).

He followed up with that partner's assistant from the last firm. ("Has he even--sorry, has he had a chance to... the documentation package I sent... Thursday, I'm certain it was Thursday... No, I understand, you're very busy... No, please just get back to me when you can.") Mental note for the next time he tried the whole networking with the admin staff strategy: there a distinct possibility that Eduardo had been less charming and more creepily invasive than he thought he'd been.

"Relax, Saverin", Sean said in his ear, thumbs digging in along the v of his throat and dodging an (admittedly sloppy) elbow. "You're making our people nervous."

Speaking of which.

If everybody in the business eventually turned into Sean Parker, well, maybe it was better to just end it all right then.

*

It wasn't until Sean was pressed into his side, helping him re-attach the cereal cupboard latch (someone was much too invested in their Captain Crunch, he'd blame the drugs but then he knows Dustin), that he became deeply suspicious.

Sean slid an arm around his shoulder, Eduardo shrugged it off, and then the revelation slammed into him like a blunt force object to the head. "You've been screwing with me."

Sean shrugged and slipped the pin in, flipping the door shut like they'd been trying to accomplish for the last fifteen fucking minutes. "I heard you confessing your love for me to the furniture."

The smug satisfaction in his smile was nauseating and not in the least bit appealing. Eduardo informed himself of this several times as Sean pressed his back up against the cabinets ( _"You're so cute when you glare at me. Yeah, like that."_ ) and moved in, threading their fingers together, both hands pressed behind Eduardo into the counter-top. He kissed the underside of Eduardo's chin, just a soft brush, and then a harder suck at the skin behind his ear. Once Eduardo had that breathing thing all worked out, he fully intended to protest more than,

"Wait, we're--we're sort of in public. House public." There was probably someone here that still respected him. And the exhibitionism was becoming a disturbing trend.

"Don't worry," Sean said, "I cleared it with Mark."

Which didn't register for a few seconds, since Eduardo was, quite understandably, fairly preoccupied with chanting to himself _\--don't let Sean Park fuck you in kitchen, you really can't let Sean Parker fuck you in the kitchen, because someone might walk into the kitchen, no you can't just get naked for a few seconds GOD DAMNIT"--_

"uh, what?" Eduardo said.

Sean shrugged again, like a flippant afterthought. "I asked."

Eduardo debated the appropriate response: deep horror, abject humiliation, or _furious vengeance_. "He's my pimp now?"

" _Wardo_ ", Sean admonished, grinned at the dark look Eduardo threw him, and stepped in tighter to slot their hips together. "I'm a cautious guy."

"You, cautious?" Eduardo said, threat level lowered to Extremely Dubious.

"I've expressed some caution, in certain dealing," Sean said, returning to nuzzling his throat, hands abandoning their posts to slide up his sides and into his back pockets, as if sensing his weakening through extrasensory perception. "I just wanted to make sure it wouldn't cause a shit-storm. But he only wanted to know if I would actually be into you for real, which I am, so."

Sean's thumbs dipped down to stroke under his waist band.

" _Right_ ," Eduardo managed.

"Aw now, you boys never met any of my serious ex's. You're just my type: bitchy and fine as hell. I just didn't know you were interested."

"I wasn't--"

"No, I know," Sean said, and shivered as Eduardo watched dumbfounded, unaware that he'd done anything particularly shiver-worthy. (other than, he supposed, letting Sean touch him. which was, _yeah_.) "That's why I like you. You make me work for it."

Sean was hard against his thigh, nudging, and Eduardo felt his cock harden in response and gasped, air punching out of his lungs. It was awful and wonderful, the heat of Sean flexing against him, a counterpoint to the palm now stroking his tailbone, Sean pressing them tight together and circling his hips every so often as if to punctuate a statement.

"It was so fun fucking with you that first dinner. Getting you all riled up."

"I seriously hate you," Eduardo said, trying to mean it, a little desperately.

"I know," Sean said, grinning into his neck.

"God, you're obnoxious."

"Mmm," Sean said, bit at his earlobe, and whispered against his mouth, "that's hot."

And what could Eduardo do? He laughed and kissed him back.


End file.
